


Greco-Roman

by FanGirlyGlee



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 07:18:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16280114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanGirlyGlee/pseuds/FanGirlyGlee
Summary: Ray wonders if he's still got it.  Nate and Zari want to know what he's up to.





	Greco-Roman

**Author's Note:**

> Just some silliness that gave me an excuse to imagine Ray in a wrestling singlet.

Once every month or so the Waverider made a pit stop in real time so the team could ground themselves in something familiar.  Also, Ray needed to visit the bank. 

“Not that I’m knocking sound financial planning, but why do you need to physically go to the bank?”  The whole thing had been bugging Nate for some time.  " Do you have a private vault where you dive into gold coins like Scrooge McDuck?”

Ray smirked.  “What’s your fascination with people touching large sums of money?” 

Nate got huffy.  “Man, I was drunk when I said if I won the lottery I’d pay women to cover themselves in honey and roll around picking up one-hundred dollar bills. Are you ever going to let that die?”

Ray shook his head. “One, no, I will remind you of that for years to come.  Two, if  I did have gold in the bank it would be in bullion, and three, I don’t have a stash of gold!”

“Why did you shout that last part?”

“Gotta stay off Mick's radar.  Anyway, I kept my pre-Palmer Tech funds separate from my other assets and accessible only in person.  I earned that money.  It helped me when I was starting out; before I made my first million, which is long gone, hence my paranoia.”

“Makes sense.  Beats burying a can full of nickels in the yard, which was my plan at age ten. ”

 

Ray was pleased to find that his savings were indeed safe, and that they were accruing interest at a modest rate.  He’d promised himself he would be conservative with this, the remainder of his first nest egg.  He was well aware that life rarely turns out the way he'd planned and it was important to have a safety net.   As he was storing drawings for the latest A.T.O.M. suit upgrade in his safe deposit box the corner of a faded Polaroid photograph caught his eye.  Warmth rushed through him as he remembered with fondness the day that picture was taken.  The young man in the picture was so far removed from who he was now. Then again, as one chapter ended there another began with him older and, hopefully, a little wiser.    He pulled out his phone and input a reminder to pick up some hair color.  He didn't feel ready for salt and pepper. just yet.  He gave the photo one more look before putting it back into storage, reminding himself that you can’t go home again.   He wondered though, if he still had what it took to compete.  He was in very good shape, and planned to stay so for his entire life.  With a good training regimen and reaching out to the right people, maybe he could find out.

 

Two months later, on a Tuesday, Nate scooted closer to Zari during breakfast.  He nudged her arm, whispering, “Does Ray look different to you?” 

Zari gave their resident scientist a once over.  “Still smiling all the time, which is his special kind of weird. Why?”

“Is it my imagination or is he bigger?”  Zari rolled her eyes.  Nate snickered and then continued.  “Not like that.  I meant putting on weight – muscle?”

“Hard to tell,” she replied.  “Shirts could be getting tighter around the chest a little.  Since Mallus you, Ray, and Mick have all been working a lot out more - like you think you're gonna be able to punch evil to death.  Also, it is far too early in the day for you to trick me into watching you flex.”

“I wasn't, but I appreciate you noticin' the guns. I think he's bulking up, but I don't know why.” 

Zari sighed. She did love a mystery.  “How do we find out without asking him?  If he wanted us to know he'd have told us, and watching him try to lie is painful.”

Nate nodded.  “And when he panics he hits.”

 

The first week of Ray-watch was predictably boring.  He had a daily routine that wasn't the least bit suspicious.  Then one day he asked to borrow the jump ship and returned with a black eye.  “Minor disagreement,” Ray said plainly.  “No big deal.” 

That touched off another round of wild speculation.  “Street fighting,” Nate proposed.

 Zari wasn't sure. “He'd have more than just a shiner.  Also, we get into enough scrapes without Ray actively looking for a beating.”

“The odds of him _wanting_ to hurt someone are low,” Nate conceded.

 

 The next week while they were suiting up, Nate got a glimpse of Ray's better-than-usual defined quadriceps, and couldn't take it anymore. “Dude, what's going on? Are you training for something?”

 Ray shook his head.  “Landings in the suit are a little rough on the knees.  Just trying to build up some strength to take the pressure off.”  Nate smelled bullshit, but Ray didn't crack.

 

“We have to follow him,” Nate decided.

“Really?  That's a bit much. What if he just has a girlfriend?”

“Who punches him? And he hasn't told me – or anyone - about her. Yesterday he went on for ten minutes about how much he likes quinoa.”

“Yeah, I have to admit it doesn't seem likely.  But he is entitled to a private life." Zari paused, then suggested, "How about we follow him just once and if we don't find anything out of the ordinary we give up?”

“Deal.”

 

The next time the Waverider stopped in Star City Ray took off on his own, backpack full of something and wearing his favorite jacket in which Zari had carefully concealed a tracker. 

Nate and Zari trailed Ray to a warehouse that had been converted into a club or venue of some sort.  It wasn't loud and lit up like a night club, but there was an intimidating guy at the door.  A significant number of people entering looked as if they were bodybuilders and there were more men than women.  Zari got an idea.  “Nate, roll up your sleeves.”  Nate happily complied and adopted his most cocky grin as she linked her arm through his.  They approached the door, paid the cover charge, and were allowed entry. 

 

Inside didn't have much in the way of décor.  There was a bar set up on one side of the large open room and a roped off platform in the middle surrounded by folding chairs.  “Uh oh.  Looks like you were right about fights,” Zari remarked.  Nate scanned around it.

“There's no cage, and we got in way too easily for this to be something really bad." 

A casually dressed man wearing a headset stood up on the bar and made an announcement.  “Next up, Zelda takes on all comers.  Anyone who wants to get into the ring has to have a signed waiver on file and get in line.”  Around six men, ranging in age from twenty to sixty formed an orderly line.  Most were wearing track pants and t-shirts.  Zelda came out from behind a curtain.  She was an Amazon; tall and strong and with a no-nonsense expression that would have made Ava Sharpe seem downright cheerful.  She stepped into the ring and motioned for the first guy to approach. 

 

An unassuming middle-aged man launched himself at Zelda.  She side-stepped easily, grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back.  Then she leaned forward, bouncing them both off the mat and pinning the guy beneath her.  “Is this wrestling?” Zari wondered aloud.

“Sorta."  Nate sounded unsure.

Zelda flipped her _opponent_ onto his back, straddled his neck, and sat there while he struggled, but didn't tap out.  Eventually he went limp and the crowd cheered.  Zelda stood up and motioned for the next in line.  “God that'd be heaven,” exclaimed the man standing next to Zari while retrieving an inhaler from the pocket of his windbreaker.  “Damn asthma.”  His female companion patted his arm reassuringly.

Zelda took on the rest, only two of whom looked like they were even trying, but in the end succumbed to her superior strength.  They all appeared to quite pleased to have lost.

The MC called time and she left the ring, surrounded by admirers.  The atmosphere was different from what Nate would expect from a boxing match or even WWE.  People were clearly here for a good time.

 

Nate decided to chat with the folks around him.  "Hey, we're new in town and this is our first time.  What's up next?”

The asthmatic guy was happy to talk.  “Negotiated matches – ones set up in advance between folks who have agreed to terms.  It gets a little intense.”

“But super hot,” his girlfriend sighed.  “That's why I come.  Seeing two big dudes trash talk and manhandle each other is breathtaking.”

The MC reappeared.  “Please welcome Kyle and RICK!”

The audience began cheering.  Girlfriend was clearly stoked.  “Yes yes yes!”  She grabbed Zari by the arm.  “You are gonna love this guy.  He is sooo hot.” 

Asthma guy looked at Nate and rolled his eyes.  “He's okay.”

Two men stepped into the ring.  A wiry young man wearing a neon-green singlet squared up against a more muscular tall fellow with the lower half of his face covered by a leather mask.    Nate looked them both up and down.  “Oh hell, that's Ray.”

Zari stared.  “Are you sure?”

“I'd recognize those banana hands anywhere.”

“Oh, you're right.”

 

The two men circled around each other, hurling insults.   “You think you're hot shit, don't you?” Kyle taunted.  “Drop in here whenever you want like a deadbeat dad and expect us all to get excited."

Ray took a big swipe at the slightly shorter man and cuffed him upside the head.  Kyle spun and that's when Nate noticed something unusual about his outfit.  “Why....why is there no ass in that thing?” he asked with a slight squeak. 

Girlfriend giggled.  “Like I said – hot.”

After some tussling back and forth Ray got Kyle in a half nelson and began smacking his bare backside.  The slapping sound echoed through the warehouse to the crowd's delight.  

"Act like a brat, you're gonna get treated like one,” Ray stated calmly. 

Nate couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.   “We shouldn't be watching this,” he mumbled. 

Zari held up a hand.  “No, no, let's see where this goes.”

Kyle wriggled free and jumped on Ray's back, pulling him down.  The next five minutes were a serious battle for supremacy.  Nate had to admit it was pretty intense, but surreal as Kyle was literally spanked while shouting at Ray to “Stop being a fag and wrestle like a man.” 

Finally Ray had Kyle pinned on his back, one leg swung over his midsection.  “We done, boy?” Ray asked.  Kyle flailed around for another couple seconds before he admitted defeat.  Ray stood up and helped Kyle to his feet.  As the applause began Kyle stuck out his tongue and licked the front of Ray's mask.  In response, Ray bent at the waste picked Kyle up and carried him from the ring over his shoulder.  

 

“That's...what was that?”  Nate was at a loss

Girlfriend giggled.  “Wow this is really is your first time.  Not like the kind of wrestling you see in the Olympics is it?  Two guys, getting all hot and sweaty...winner screws the loser - maybe.  I dunno.  This isn't _that_ kind of club.”

 “I need a drink,” he decided. 

 

The next three matches were similar and Nate remained quiet until Zari bumped his elbow.  “What's bugging you? That Ray has a hobby he didn't tell you about or that he has a boyfriend?”

“Dunno.  Obviously you were right. It's Ray's life. I'm glad he's not doing something self-destructive.  I guess I hoped he would tell me if he was seeing someone.  I'm trying to think if I ever said anything that would make him think he couldn't tell me he had a boyfriend.”

“Kyle's not my boyfriend.”  Nate jumped as Ray appeared by his side. “For one thing, he’s married.”

The bartender handed Ray a sports drink.  “Enjoy the show?” he asked Zari.

“It was…interesting,” Zari conceded. “A little theatrical.”

“Which you’d expect I suppose," Nate speculated, making Ray frown.

“No it’s not.  Okay it’s not strict Greco-Roman, and I’m not world class or anything, but we weren't pretending.”

“I sure as hell wasn’t,” Kyle affirmed as he grabbed threw his arm around Ray's shoulders.  “But it was a thrill to get beat by you,  man.  I watched all videos when I was a kid.  Ooh, sorry that didn’t sound so great.” 

The man by Kyle's side reached out to shake Ray’s hand.  "I’m Jim, Kyle’s husband.  Pleasure to meet you.  Please ignore him.  He's a helpless fanboy.  He's been talking about getting in the ring with you for ages.  Thanks for making his dream come true.”  Kyle’s cheeks turned a deep crimson as he was led away.

Ray laughed and shook his head.  He looked very happy and relaxed.

“Your videos?” Nate was concerned.  “What exactly are we talking about?”

“Gee Nate if you’re going to stalk someone you could at least do a little research.”  Ray, Nate, and Zari moved over to a card table with some folding chairs.   “The abridged version of the story is that I wrestled in high school. Was never that great, but I liked it.  I tried out in college but didn’t go far there.  However, I did catch the eye of someone who made a certain type of film.”

“Ray, you did porn?” Zari was genuinely shocked. 

He chuckled.  “Not quite.  In the early 2000s I performed in a series of low budget wrestling videos.  They were pretty popular on alt.sex.fetish.wrestling for a while.  See, some men are turned on by the prospect of struggling against a powerful woman.  Some men like wrestling other men as a form of foreplay. There’s a whole bunch of pornography devoted to it and in some underground clubs sex is part of the deal.”  He took a swig of his Gatorade and looked toward the ring. 

“But not for you?” Nate was curious. 

“Not anymore,” Ray replied, clearly distracted. “My partner’s the jealous type. I mostly enjoy the competition.  Awesome, the next round is about to begin.  We should cheer for him.”

“Huh?”

The MC stood up on the bar again.  “For tonight’s finale we have a special treat.  Our own Jonny Boy will take on a newcomer.  Let’s hear it for Micky!”

Ray stood up and whistled loudly as two men got into the ring.  Zari made an “eep” sound as she and Nate took in the sight of Mick clad in a bright red singlet.  The reinforced Lycra hugged his powerful thighs and put his muscled arms and torso on full display.  Nate shielded his eyes.  “Tell me his ass isn’t hanging out,” he begged.

Zari squeezed his arm tightly.  “Butt's covered, but I think the front part – the codpiece- unzips.”

“It does,” Ray purred.  “You got this, Micky!” he roared.

Mick’s fingers flipped upward in a tiny wave as he prepared to for battle.

“Ray, does Mick even know how to do this?”  Zari was worried for their friend.

Ray turned to them, grinning proudly.  “Central juvenile correction champ two years running. We can talk later.  I’ve been waiting for this for weeks.”

Zari pulled away from Nate and watched in rapt attention as Mick struggled with his clearly skilled opponent.   The historian was still trying to make sense of the whole situation. “So when you said partner…”

Ray paid him no mind.  “Get around him Baby.”

Nate tried tugging on Zari’s sleeve, but she was lost to him, waving her arms in the air and cheering.  “That’s it, Micky, you ain’t nobody’s bitch!”  Ray high-fived her.

Nate ordered a shot of something flammable and wondered if liquor worked as well as the flashy thing at erasing memories.

 


End file.
